Prussia's Diary
by sherlocked-with-no-key
Summary: Prussia has been treated differently because of his appearance his entire life. But see what happens when villagers take it too far. Based on a headcannon.


1720

The flames climbed higher and higher on the woodpile where young Prussia stood tied to a post. They licked his clothes and burned his skin. He tried to scream, but the gag around his mouth kept him quiet. He couldn't move. Quickly, the fire was all around him, reaching up his face and singeing his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears rolled down his cheeks, only to be eaten by the flames as well.

_Please let this end. Please let this end, please. _He repeated in his mind. Villagers screamed angrily all around him, raising their fists and shouting curses at his name. The fire reflected the rage in their eyes. The frightened boy pulled at the ropes around is wrists but they dug deeper into his soft skin. What felt like hours went by, and the flames seemed to grow hotter, but Prussia didn't die. He couldn't.

Eventually the villagers seemed to notice that there was no effect to the boy. Angrily they doused the flames. Prussia slouched against the restraints and tried to get his breathing under control. Faster than he wished, a local slit the rope and yanked him to his feet. Prussia didn't have the strength to fight back. More jeers and curses were thrown at him as the man lugged him off the pile of wood and threw him to the ground.

"I'll give you one last chance, monster!" the man tore the gag off his face, making Prussia cough. "What are you?!" There was fear in the man's eyes.

"I'm human." Prussia croaked. Smoke coated his lungs.

"You lying _demon_!" The man kicked him in the ribs. Prussia felt his bones break, and he coughed up black blood. The crowd cheered. The man grasped him by the collar and dragged him across the grass. Villagers kicked mud and threw rocks, shouting still. A stone hit his forehead and Prussia's vision blurred. He felt the sticky, hot blood start to flow.

"Here, then!" the man tied a section of rope around a large boulder and wound the other end tightly around Prussia's wrists. The Danube River loomed behind him.

"Please…stop." He cried weakly.

"Not 'til you're good and dead!" The crowd roared. "Now get back to where you came from!" With one last curse to his name, the man tossed the rock into the water and Prussia was pulled in after it. The shouts of the villagers were the last thing he heard before he sank below the surface.

The air left his lungs in bubbles as the rock dragged him down. The light of day slowly faded to darkness as he sank deeper. He recalled from books that the Danube was almost thirty feet deep. Seconds later he hit the riverbed, and the last remaining air he had was expelled. Water filled his lungs.

_I'm doomed._ Vati had told him before that since he was a country, he couldn't die unless his capital city was overthrown, and a new leader was established. _I can't even swim. I'll be here until the next war. _

Hours passed, but death never came. He wondered if anyone would ever find him, or if he'd be stuck here until the end of time. The thought terrified him. Salty tears found their way into the water around him. He closed his eyes and his already pointless breathing stopped.

After what felt like eternity he heard splashing. Tiredly, he opened his eyes. At first Prussia feared that a large animal would try to make a feast out of him. Then, through the murky waters above, a shadow formed into a human figure. The man swam furiously towards him. It was Germania.

_Vati! _Prussia thought.

Germania threw his arms around Prussia and untied the rock from his wrists. He pulled the limp boy under one arm and pushed skyward. Seconds later they broke through the surface, and Germania dragged him to shore. Prussia's little brother, Holy Rome, waited on the beach with tears in his eyes. Darkness had swallowed the sun in moonless night, and Prussia could barely see without the light of the stars

Prussia rolled onto his stomach and coughed the bloody water out of his lungs. His body ached all over from the burns. Holy Rome knelt worriedly by his head, asking him if he was all right. He couldn't answer. All he could do was try and get air.

"You're so stupid." Germania said coldly. Prussia pushed himself to his hands and knees. "Why did you think they'd treat you differently today?"

Prussia sniffed, "I don't know. I just came to get a sheep this morning like you asked."

"You should be more careful." Germania pulled Prussia to his feet and took off the drenched overcoat. He covered Prussia in his own dry cloak he'd left on shore instead. "They don't take kindly to you, no matter how many days pass. Remember that, Gilbert."

Prussia nodded. He flipped up the hood of the cloak.

"Come on. Let's get you home. It's late, and you have wounds we need to clean." Germania pushed Prussia into a walk.

A few minutes later the three had arrived home. Holy Rome gave Prussia a big squeeze to make sure he was okay one last time before he ran off to bed.

Germania pointed to a chair and Prussia sat obediently. He looked the young boy over carefully; checking his wounds, asking him to breathe, and testing his joints. Prussia winced quite often. Gently, Germania wrapped up his burned arms and legs. He wiped the crusty blood off Prussia's forehead and cleaned it with cold water. As he was tying on the bandages, Prussia spoke up.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

Germania stopped. He looked Prussia in the eyes, "Nobody hates you, Gilbert."

"Then why do they try and kill me every time I step outside?" Prussia's voice wavered.

"Maybe they're just jealous of your big heart."

Prussia knew that wasn't the truth, but he said nothing more. Germania finished tying the last bandage and washed his hands.

"I want you to write in your book before you go to bed tonight, Prussia." Germania said without looking at him. "Clear your head a bit." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Goodnight." His footsteps retreated into the house.

Prussia sat where he was for a while after Germania had left. He wiped his eyes and hopped of the chair, wincing as the movement jarred his sore legs. He limped across the house to his bedroom and closed the door quietly. Crossing the room to his desk, Prussia opened a drawer and pulled out a leather bound book. He flipped through the filled pages until he found a blank one. Then, taking a quill, he marked the date and began his nightly entry.

_Dear diary,_

_ The locals set me on fire, again. But this time, they tied me up so I couldn't move. My whole body is sore and my hair is shorter. After they realized that the fire wasn't working, they threw me into the river tied to a stone. I can't swim, but I can't drown either. I was just there for hours, until Vati came. He seemed so angry and he called me stupid, but he helped me with my wounds and actually seemed to calm down a bit… All this is happening because of my eye color. They think I'm a demon. No matter how many times I try and tell them, they just won't listen. Why was I cursed like this? What did I do? _

Prussia put down the quill and wiped his eyes again. He waited for the ink to dry, then closed the cover and replaced the book in the drawer. He crawled painfully into bed and waited for sleep to come.


End file.
